


The Girl And Her Pirate Queen

by ReneeMontoya



Category: Marvel (Comics), Young Avengers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pirate, F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-28
Updated: 2014-09-28
Packaged: 2018-02-19 03:33:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2372996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReneeMontoya/pseuds/ReneeMontoya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kate Bishop is the daughter of a wealthy merchant whose life gets turned upside-down when she's captured by the notorious pirate captain, America Chavez.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Girl And Her Pirate Queen

**Author's Note:**

> There'll be more chapters eventually. Probably.
> 
> EDIT: It's been over a year. I'm probably never going to continue this.

The roar of cannons and the acrid stench of gunpowder woke Kate from her sleep. The sounds of men and women screaming split the air like shattering glass. Kate tumbled out of bed and ran up to the deck. Splinters dug into her bare feet and the cold wind ripped through her night dress. People were running in confusion as spray and smoke covered the deck like a fog.

Kate grabbed the arm of a young boy as he ran past her. Kate shook him and shouted over the din. “What’s going on?”

The boy looked up at her, wide eyes bright in the darkness.

“Pirates!”

Out of the gloom the huge shadow of a ship loomed over them. Steel flashed and boots thumped on the deck. Wood exploded as gun shots echoed through the night. At her feet one of the crew fell, a dark glistening circle of blood spreading across his back. Kate swallowed the vomit that crept into her mouth and pulled the flintlock pistol from the dying man’s coat. She backed up against the gunwale and cocked the pistol.

Like phantoms three men brandishing swords and knives emerged from the smoke. Kate straightened her back, held up her arm, pointed the barrel at the first man and squeezed the trigger. A flurry of sparks erupted from the gun and the man fell to the deck. Kate ignored the pain in her arm and levelled the gun at the next man. She fired again but nothing happened. She kept pulling the trigger but it was no use – the powder must have gotten damp. Kate screamed as the two men barrelled into her, knocking her to the floor. One of them ground his heel into her wrist and the pistol was wrenched from her hand.

The men dragged her to her feet and pulled her towards the bow of the ship. The screaming had stopped and a light gust of wind was clearing away the smoke. A rough hand on Kate’s back forced her to her knees amongst the other captives. Tears were welling up in her eyes as she looked up. Kate blinked away the tears. Standing at the gunwale a woman was looking out across the sea at the rising sun.

“Please,” Kate said, her voice catching in her throat, “Please, don’t kill me. My father owns this ship. If you were too take me home he would…”

The pirate turned round and looked down at Kate’s pleading face. She had a sword in one hand, a smoking pistol in the other and no hint of sympathy on her face. Her thick curly hair was black against the sky like a storm cloud and her loose white shirt flapped in the wind like sea spray.

She pointed her sword at one of her crew. “You. Find her some clothes and take her below.” She strode past Kate not giving her a second glance. “The rest of you take everything that isn’t nailed down. Then take everything that is and the nails too.”

Murmurings of “Aye, Captain” and then Kate was grabbed by the wrist and marched across the deck to the waiting brigantine.

Kate was hurriedly bundled away in a cramped cabin deep in the bowels of the ship. Her hands were then bound and she was left alone in the dark with nothing but the creaking of the ship and the sloshing of the sea for company.

The windows in the cabin were made from mismatched diamonds of coloured glass. As the sun climbed higher in the sky, the swirling ocean became a brilliant mosaic of luxuriant colour and the cabin was bathed in a myriad of colours. Kate saw that the cabin was in fact quite comfortable and clearly well used. Maps and charts were scattered across a table and pinned to the walls. Kate sat down on a small bed in one corner. There was a washstand opposite with a huge, age spotted mirror hanging above it. She could see her tired, drawn face in the glass. She realised how terrified she looked. Stuffed birds with rainbow feathers, countless rusted swords in ornate scabbards, colourful shells and glistening jewels were scattered across the room.

Kate’s eyes grew heavy. Only fear and her chafing wrists kept her from falling asleep right there. Kate spent hours alone in that cabin. She sat on the bed thinking of escape. Every plan she came up with she quickly abandoned. She could throw herself through the window but with her hands tied and who knows how far from land that was suicide. She could wait until nightfall when they brought her a candle or lantern and set the whole ship on fire. That plan was even more foolhardy and she was half convinced that the pirates would leave her in the dark anyway. The rest of her plans required gun powder or bows and arrows or a secret tunnel.

Just as despair was giving way to sleep the rusted hinges on the cabin door cut through the creaking of the ship. The door opened slowly. Kate stiffened. Standing in the doorway was a woman holding a bundle of purple fabric under her arm.

“May I come in?”

Kate didn’t say anything and the woman came into the cabin anyway. She drew a knife from her belt and cut Kate’s bonds. She handed Kate the bundle and smiled kindly. Kate took the bundle and looked up at her. She gasped as she realised who was standing in front of her. She hadn’t recognised her in the light. It was the pirate captain.

“I thought you might like to get dressed,” she said pointing at the clothes she had given Kate.

Kate managed to stutter a thank you.

Kate extended her hand.

“K- Kate Bishop. Nice to meet you.”

The captain looked at her quizzically for a second then took her hand and held it gently in her coarse fingers.

“America Chavez.” America held Kate’s smooth hand a few moments longer then let go. “Get dressed.”

Kate stood and rubbed her wrists. America made no move to leave so Kate turned towards the window and pulled her night dress up over her head. She stood naked in the shifting patterns of light and groped though the pile of clothes America had brought her. She found some linen undergarments and hurriedly pulled them on. She picked up the dress and started squeezing into it. The silk felt cool against her skin.

“I thought you’d look nice in that one,” America said as Kate adjusted her bosom. “The purple suits you.”

Kate turned back around and smoothed out the wrinkles in the fabric. America had not brought her a petticoat but she could make do.

She met America’s gaze and clenched her jaw.

“I trust my cabin is to your liking.” America said as she undid her belt buckle and draped it over a worm-eaten chest. Her pistols and knives were still strapped to her legs but her sword lay in its scabbard on the belt.

“It’s- it’s yours?” Kate said, “Thank you. It’s very nice. I- I love the birds” She silently chastised herself. What was she thinking trying to make small talk with a pirate?

“I shot them myself in the Amazon.” America smiled at her. "Apparently you're quite the marksman yourself. You shot one of my men square between the eyes last night."

She began unlacing her loose linen shirt. Kate’s cheeks flushed as America pulled the shirt off and threw it to the floor and walked over to the wash basin. America’s back was criss-crossed with scars and tattoos covered both her arms. Kate could make out stars and exotic birds, ships and mermaids. America bent over the bowl of water and splashed her face.

Kate’s eyes lit up. The sword was almost in reach. She stepped cautiously over the rough floor, her bare feet moving silently. She kept her eyes locked on America as she reached out a trembling hand for the hilt of the sword. She grasped it and slid it ever so slowly out of the scabbard. America obviously kept it well-oiled as it slid out smoothly and silently.

America tipped the heavy bowl of water over her head. The gleam of metal in the murky mirror caught her eye. She spun around, her soaking hair clinging to her shoulders. She felt the cold caress of steel at her throat as Kate levelled the sabre at her.

“Don’t you bloody move!” Kate hoped she didn’t sound half as terrified as she felt.

America just smiled.

“Are you going to kill me, princess? Go on. Fuck me with that sword.”

Kate was breathing heavily, panic filling her veins. Sweat was running down her back. What was she supposed to do?

She watched the water run in rivulets down America’s bare breasts.

Kate realised where she was looking and looked back up into America’s face. She could feel herself blushing.

America just grinned even more. She moved the blade aside with her finger and took a step towards Kate. Kate didn’t move. The sword was growing heavy in her hand. Her arm was aching. America was standing so close to her now that her body was pressed up against hers. Their noses were almost touching. She could smell her sweat and the almost cinnamon sent of her curly hair. Her lips were parted. She could feel America’s breath on her face. America brushed a strand of hair out of Kate’s face, stroking her cheek with her knuckle and laughed as Kate’s eyes flickered down to her chest again. Looking into her eyes she unwrapped Kate’s fingers from the hilt of the sword. She took a step back and slid the curved sword through the sash around her waist.

“Better luck next time, princess,” America said as she picked up her belt and made for the door.

Kate stood there breathless, hands shaking, unsure of what to do.

“Oh, and, princess” America was standing in the doorway, “I saw the way you were looking at me.” She winked and strode out into the gloom, the door slamming shut behind her. Kate felt her cheeks burning even after she left.

That night, after Kate had eaten and was curled up on America’s bed, she drifted into a sleep full of mermaids and swords and naked pirate queens.


End file.
